


Ground the Tides

by deathwailart



Series: Sail Your Sea [4]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Banter, F/F, Fluff, Homecoming, Making Out, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 06:43:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2219622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathwailart/pseuds/deathwailart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary's been away and comes home to Anne.</p>
<p>Written for the prompt: imagine mary kissing anne and anne like jfc is that blood on your lips get them away from me you mad woman</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ground the Tides

It's late, not that it ever matters much in Nassau really because pirates don't exactly keep the same sort of hours as regular folk, when Mary finally comes back.  
  
By way of clattering in through Anne's partially opened window that lets in the sound of muffled drunken pirates singing in the distance. Jack's probably one of them, Anne having left the Old Avery earlier when her work was done to get the smell of rum and unwashed pirates off her, not tired exactly but not in the mood to join in with everyone either. She misses Mary when she's off doing what she does when she's not with her and Jack and that lad she makes eyes at on the ship. Still, it's always something when Mary comes back and she's grinning ear to ear and laughing as she scoops Anne up and swings her round, foreheads pressed together right before she steals a kiss.  
  
Which is what she does as soon as she's shut the window most of the way, the room cool enough by now, only a few guttering lamps to light it. She's still dressed like James as she almost always – it's a privilege to see Mary, to have Mary almost all to herself – but she's already stripping out of the coat as she crosses the room. Her lips are dark, almost like wine, but there's no time to think about that because Mary's pulling her close, just in her shirt and trousers and Anne's grinning and reaching up to untie the bandana that helps maintain the illusion of James.  
  
"Miss me?" Mary asks, lips almost brushing Anne's but not quite.  
  
"What do you think?" Anne replies before cursing under her breath as her fingers fumble on the knot. Mary laughs and tugs Anne close enough that she feels it vibrate through her own chest and drops her head, kisses the hollow of her throat where she tastes of sweat and salt.  
  
"Hang on, I'll..." There's another curse and Mary must be tired if she's struggling too but there's a clink of the beads and the bandana falls to the floor. "There we are!" Mary's voice is starting to sound a bit more like hers and not the one she uses for James but Anne doubts many other folks can actually tell the difference except for her but there's a softness Mary has that James doesn't, or maybe it's just that that's how Mary sounds when it's just her and Anne alone.  
  
She leans down to kiss Anne but she smirks and turns her head, tilting her chin. "What about you?" She asks, biting her lip because otherwise she'll laugh at the look on Mary's face. "D'you miss me?"  
  
"Bloody hell, course I did, I'd be mad not to miss you, sweetheart."  
  
Only Mary calls her things like that without getting a shove. Even Rackham gets a scoffing sound. Well, there's Thatch but Thatch feels like everyone's favourite mad uncle and she always has her back when he calls her something daft so he can't see her little grin.  
  
"Going to prove it to me then?" Anne continues, curling her fingers in Mary's shirt, laughing at last when Mary groans.  
  
"S'what I'm trying to do if you'd let me," she complains, walking them back towards the bed.  
  
"You'd hate it if I made things easy for you."  
  
"You're right," Mary laughs, dipping to brush their noses briefly as she goes for the laces of the loose shirt Anne wears to bed, the one that's always in danger of falling right off her shoulders. "You're always right."  
  
"Glad to hear it." Really she could say more because Mary's not always happy when Anne's right, usually when they're on the ship and there's an argument they're all trying to settle over paying everyone and no we don't need to take that passage have all you lost your heads but Mary is here and the back of Anne's knees hit the bed. Mary's got one hand under her chin, thumb just brushing her bottom lip and Anne goes up on her toes to kiss her at last.  
  
Only to pull away in horror and wipe her mouth with the back of her hand.  
  
"Christ woman! Is that-" She moves away from Mary to get close to a lamp, examining the back of her hand before she scowls furiously. "Blood? You've got _blood_ on your mouth and you're kissing me?"  
  
"It's my blood!"  
  
"And that's meant to make it better?"  
  
Anne folds her arms and Mary has the grace to look sheepish for a moment before she's folding her arms too as Anne goes to find water and a cloth. "Hang on, you've had no problem when I've had blooded knuckles."  
  
"I wasn't kissing them, not while they were still bloodied, you were just grabbing me, that's different." Anne wipes at her mouth, then the smear on the back of her hand, wringing the cloth out a little as she debates if she should just throw at Mary. But she sighs and approaches a now sullen Mary, sitting on the edge of the bed as she kicks off her boots.  
  
"I wouldn't mind if you kissed me with blood on your mouth," she mutters and Anne rolls her eyes, dabbing gently at Mary's lips.  
  
"Don't be an arse or you'll be sleeping on the floor. Outside."  
  
"You wouldn't really."  
  
"You fancy pushing your luck?"  
  
Mary relents, taking the cloth from Anne to sling it wetly over on the table next to the bowl.  
  
"So," she says as she pulls Anne into her lap, laughing when Anne gasps in surprise, "I'm clean – clean enough at least. We picking up where we left off."  
  
"I suppose I can forgive you."  
  
"You're so very gracious Annie," Mary murmurs, allowing Anne to push her to lie back, pinning Mary's wrists above her head, mindful of that ridiculously large blade strapped to her forearm. Only Mary is allowed to call her Annie. Not even Thatch or Rackham are afforded such a luxury.  
  
"Don't you forget it."  
  
"Never," Mary vows and Anne hesitates because sometimes she doesn't rightly know what to do with how she feels about Mary, how stupidly in love she is and that she can see it reflected right back at her whenever Mary looks at her. So she kisses her, kisses her until they're both breathless and have to part so they can breathe and so Mary can haul them both up the bed before she rolls them over. Anne watches her detaching the weapon that she explained once before, when Anne almost set it off when they were undressing hurriedly one of the very first times they were together. "Let me make it all up to you."  
  
"Best idea I've heard all night."

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Moon by Sia: Two ships passing in the night//Two lips pressing ground the tides


End file.
